Final Hope: the bird kid that no one knew about
by Potterbirdkid
Summary: Hi guys! yeah well this is my first fanfic. The story, like the title says, is about the story of Final Hope, the bird kid no one knew about. She's basically in a same type of situation as the original bird kid gang, but its a bit different. Enjoy! PS: i don't own part of the max ride series. I'm just writing off of it. So please don't fine me or anything if there are similariti
1. Chapter 1-Final Hope-mystery bird kid

Once upon a

Twas the night before

It was a

…..

Ugh, this is too hard... why can't I do this… am I incapable of starting one darn paragraph about my "amazing" life? Oh wait, I just did...hehe…

Right. Well, You don't know who I am. I don't know who you are, or how you found this paragraph about my life (ok who spilled the beans and put it on facebook?). Right, well, you've found this paper. Great for you. You're probably wondering who I am….Well you're gonna have to wait a bit to get that info kid... I ramble a lot.

Right. My name is Minimum Flight. No its not, you know that. It's actually Final. Final Hope. But people call me Fin. Or Fina. Whatever works. I know it's a little cheesy, but I like cheesy names, and since the scientists named me "Specimen 495", I decided to give myself a really awesome and pro name instead. Oh, and by scientists, I mean the demented, deranged, psychopath scientists who have kept me house arrested in my little cozy home/ cold and silver barred cage, in a dark, pitch black room, with one little tiny window in it. And aside from the fact that I have wings: beautiful, shiny-in-the-sun, auburn and scarlet feathered wings, I'm a really normal kid. Although my best-bud scientist friends don't really think that about me. But you know I'm normal, or at least level-headed, right? Anyways, you're probably wondering why I have wings in the first place, and why I'm stuck in this stupid cage. Well, long story short, I was born in a glass tube, had bird DNA grafted onto my baby self, was raised to be a WOMD, (weapon of mass destruction to those of you who are acronym impaired), and somehow I'm supposed to get rid of all the good guys in the world, and therefore help these ridiculous scientists take over entire galaxy, and so on and so forth. And I am stuck in this ridiculous cage because, I am a WOMD ( see previous) after all, and am one highly volatile, lean mean killing' machine, and frankly am A LOT stronger than the _very people_ who made me, so since my insane-as-the-mad-hatter science buddies are terrified of me, I am stuck in this cage. Yes, it's quite a paradox... or is it oxymoron... ugh I'm rambling again…

Yah, well, that's the story folks. Oh wait, did I tell you I could read minds too? NO DON'T GO AWAY I CAN'T READ MINDS ACROSS PAPER. Yeesh. Yah, well I can read minds (my science fair partners don't know this as of now), and punch the hell out of a punching bag in the rec center. My best running speed is 150 miles per hour, I can break the sound barrier while flying at my top speed, and I have an awesome pie eating record (Let's see you beat 300 in 10 minutes. Yeah, I thought so) And I am basically Hulk Hogan times 100, too. I'm that cool. And yet I can't break through these bars they've encased me in. I. JUST. CAN'T. DO. IT! ARGH!

Yeah, I just tried to break through. Didn't work though. Shucks… Oh wait! A couple of scientists are walking over. They look stressed. REAL stressed.. Maybe something's goin' on… Hmmmmmm….Lemme take a sneak peek into their minds.. maybe they're thinking about me (no funny ideas kid). … …. … … … .. . . … . . .. . .. .. . . .. . . . .. (that's what mind reading looks like on paper).. … .. …..

Oh my FRAG. I can't believe it. I'm not alone. I'm not the only bird child. There's a whole bunch! SIX OF THEM! And they've just escaped from their captive area! OMF! OMF! OMF! I'm not alone! I'm not one of a kind! I'm not the only bird/human mutant! They must know exactly how I feel about everything! OMF! I gotta, I gotta get to these people...i mean mutants... I mean kids. What am I gonna do? Wait, these idiotic scientists are opening my cage! What are they doing! Wait, here's my chance! I'm gonna do it!

SMASH! I zoomed out of my horrifically claustrophobic cage, barely missing the scientists who opened the darn thing, happy to be free of my apprehensions about life at last. You could practically see the exhilaration on my face. I skillfully drifted on the currents that wafted through the open door of the room, careful to stay out of the small yet effective grabbing range of the furious scientists. I realized how much how I had missed flying, since my last training session (Didn't I tell you about those? Oh well, tell ya later). Meanwhile, the freak- show freakers down below where getting on my nerves. "GET THE HELL DOWN HERE YOU FREAK, YOU'RE GONNA BREAK THE CROWN MOLDING!" yelled the horrified scientists at me. I thought "Hell no, why would I do that, I'm home free!" I put my thumb on my oblong yet delicate nose, wiggled my fingers at them, stuck out my tongue, and gave them one final taunt. I gracefully flew out of the room, down the long, crystal clean, window flanked hallway. I crashed through the window in front of me, soaring out the hole like a hawk. The glass shards from the window nicked me in a few places, but my skin healed back in only a few seconds (told you I was a freak). But even if it didn't heal, I wouldn't have given a damn, because I was a free bird now, literally and metaphorically. I was finally out of that stinkin' rat-hole-of- a-lab, out of that horrible, mortifying place. I was free. I could do what I wanted. Elated by my realization, I gained altitude, soared up into the atmosphere, and got nearer to the fathomless black of space and higher into the clouds. I felt the pillowy clouds slide past me, and allowed miniscule water droplets to form on my beautiful, glistening auburn feathers. My wings sparkled in the sunlight, and I smiled at the memory of my first time trying them out (not now, I'l tell you about it later). I have always enjoyed flying, it's the thing I'm best at. Well, I was free at last, free from the shackles that held me back from my true potential, my true identity, my true destiny. I knew right then what I was going to do.

I'm gonna find those bird kids, and help them with their mission. I'm tired being everyone's guinea pig. I'm gonna find those kids, and use my skills to help stop those horrible scientists, and possibly save the world (you'll thank me later). That's what I'm gonna do. And there ain't no one who can or _will want_ to stop me. No one. I only have one question in my mind right now; will they like me?


	2. Chapter 2- Final Hope mystery bird kid

Hey kid. You're back. I have no earthly idea how you keep finding these pieces of paper with my life's scribbling's on them, but I don't mind if you read them, as long as you don't expose me to the world, and get me in a heap of trouble, or worse, back in that horrific cage I've been trapped in. But I don't see why you have such an interest in them. Seriously. I mean, I'm just a fugitive bird-kid flying away from psychopath scientists. There's nothing weird about that (I hope you can detect the blatantly obvious sarcasm in my words… if not, oooh boy.)

Anyways, as of now, I've been flying around for quite a bit, travelling the world, following the news, reading people's minds, basically trying to find out where the cheeseburger these other bird kids are. So far, no luck. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers (but on any other day, I would choose chocolate cake). It's been three days since I've eaten something, and I'm so hungry that I could barf down a 50x50 cheese pizza. I'm hungry, kid! Do you have anything to eat? Water? Air? Nothing? Damn it. I seriously don't know how I'm even able to stay aloft, in this crazy atmosphere of ours. My feet hang limp, my arms look like noodles, and the rest of me looks like a freeze-dried potato. I was getting weaker by the minute, and faster than a normal kid, because with these wings and all, I have to eat twice as much as you do to keep my body running. Anyway, to keep myself awake, I constantly mumbled to myself, "Cheeseburger…Banana…Che-OH FRAG!"

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? Some weird looking borgo-bot cum flying monkey just zoomed past me, barely clipping my beautiful russet-toned wings. That thing had deadly sharp razors all along the side of its torso, and had red, piercingly malicious laser pointers for eyes. Only these lasers didn't just point. They _burned_. I could see the hatred programmed into this beast, and I realized right then this thing was an invention of the Institute, the place where I was born. I silently cursed to myself. Why the hell did this thing have to pop up now? I examined this beast, and noticed needle-like claws protruding out from its fingers. Its fur looked soft, but I realized there were needles in its fur. Great, so I can't choke this thing to death. Suddenly, I felt a million tiny metal bullets shoot by me, majorly cutting up my skin, piercing holes everywhere on my body. Red, crimson blood oozed out of my cuts like watered down molasses, and I felt my non-existent lunch lurch up into my throat. I detest blood, especially mine. I was losing blood fast, but I had to defend myself from this mutant robot. I had just enough energy to get me through this. I zoomed towards the borg, and landed a punch straight into its gut. I heard a metallic screech erupt from its tiny vocal chords. I taunted at it "Not so strong now, are ya boy?" even though I knew that thing didn't have a mind of its own. None of the robot fighters from the Institute did. Anyways, I wasn't through with this monstrosity yet. The borg had a few loose wires sticking out of it, and was twitching a little, but it was still alive and kicking. I had to kill this thing. I charged at it, and kicked it fiercely, with all my might, then gave it a roundhouse. Booyah! I raced 300 feet higher into the air, and dived back down, aiming straight for the borg, ready to give it the final blow. But then, I felt a sharp stab in the bottom of my foot. Damn, I had no idea that thing had a tranquilizer gun! My eyes drooped down, and I fought my lethargic-ness to wake myself up and fight, to save myself from my soon to come doom, but it was no use. It had shot morphine into me. My wings drooped down, and I began to descend through the air, losing altitude quickly. I glanced to the side of me, and say a flash of silver zoom past me. The object disintegrated the flying robo-monkey, and started to fly towards me. I don't know what it was, but I hoped to Frag that that thing was a friend. Then everything went dark.


	3. Chapter 3-Final Hope- mystery bird kid

**Disclaimer: Max Ride is Awesome. J Patterson wrote Max Ride. So therefore, J Patterson is awesome. **

Light. What is this...light? There's an aura of…heat, surrounding me, a beam of bright blaring sunlight shining down onto my exhausted face, sending a soothing, yet energizing bolt of warmth coursing through my veins. My eyelids are shut tight, but the rest of me is invigorated. My toes, fingers, everything is tingling uncontrollably, and I don't particularly like it (Tinglies make me sick. Warmth is all I got in my mind right now, kid. I think I'm in bird-kid heaven. I can feel the sunlight bathing me in energy, and I feel like a lizard in the middle of a 50 acre desert, just sitting there and soaking up some good old vitamin D. C'mon eyelids, do your job. I needa do some recon, see what the fudge is going on… Op-en. Now. ... There we go…ouch, that hurts a bit. Glaring sun plus eyes shut for who knows how long equals ouchiness. So I'm lying here. Do I have all my appendages? Legs, check. Arms, check. toes, check. Wings, check. Random kid, check. OK, we're all good. But why can't I move anything? Ugh, I feel really weird…and beat up…I just needa..needa…wait hold on a nanosecond, random kid? Who's…who's.. … …. ..

WOAH. What, not again. I swear to the almighty all-pervading force, why do I keep ending up like this? Why do I always wake up randomly in the middle of nowhere, lying on the icy floor, with my cheek plastered to the ground? Ew, dang it, I've done it again. Drooling on the floor like a rabid ferocious dog. And why is there a blanket on...

"Hi. You're awake. "

DAMN, I am not the only one in this cave!

I splutter out in my slightly unconscious state, "Who the, what the, how did…am I dead?"

"No you're not, smarty, and it's about time you opened your eyeholes," the black form gloomily and practically morbidly stated to my general direction. Great. We got ourselves a smart-a** know-it-all kid.

You probably wanna know what the fudge this kid looks like. Well, I'll tell yah, don't get your britches in a twist. Our funny friend here is totally the kinda person who thinks grey and orange are still the new black, if you get what I'm saying ( you probably don't. its ok. No one does.) He's got a long shag of jet-black, straight hair, which is kind of bouncy in the front, and that somewhat covers his forehead, and he seems to be Asian or something… idk for sure. And he's got glasses of all things. I mean think about it. You're out in the middle of nowhere, trying to deal with the mean-mama side of Mother Nature, and you don't have the nerve or the smarts to get contacts? Like I said, smarty pants. Anyway, to further describe our cozy companion. He's got a deep, yet kinda soft -guy voice, which is totally not expected from this kinda kid. No offense, but he's stick-ish. So I'm like, wow here. Anyway, there's one thing I've forgotten to mention here. Did I tell you he has rocket boosters grafted into his feet? Yup, you guessed it. We have a sarcastic mutant in our midst. Congratulations.

Anyway, that's him. Is it sad that I think he's a little, tiny, teensy weensy, little little bit cute? ACK, no, never mind never mind never mind. Urgh, stupid mind, not a good time for that. Wait, the form is saying something. Let's just turn our head to see what…

"Ack, are you evening listening? You know what, who cares. All I did was save you from a deranged mutant monkey. But I guess that's not important. -_-"

WHAAAAAAAAT? HE WAS the mass that smashed the monkey? But..but..but…

"You…saved…me? Kid?" (I'm stuttering here)

"Yes girl, I did. I don't know why, but I did."

"Um…thanks?"

"You clearly do not know how to express thankfulness to people."

"Thank you, captain obvious. So, you're a mutant like me then. Nice. "

"No duh, smart one."

"Uhm…ok. How long have I been out?"

"Couple days."

"Numero, por favor."

"A couple."

"Oh dear, you can't count, I see… well then I think that you need to get your sorry butt of the ground and go jump off a cli-"

"Uh, mean much?"

"Well excuse me for saying this, but buddy-boy, look who's talkin', clearly I am not the one who has anger iss-"

"…." (He's staring murderously at me here….)

-Uuh, I can tell this convo is going nowhere, so let's just skip to the good part, in the next chapter/piece of scrap paper. –

Bi now… ciao… skeedaddle. Beat it kid. Nothing to see here, seriously. Go. Before I make you.


	4. Chapter 4-Final Hope-mystery bird kid

**Notice: Thank you J. Patterson for making my life even more high flying with your amazing stories. You rock!~~…**

**Notice 2: Clearly, James Patterson owns all rights, patents, copyrights, etc. to maximum ride. As a reminder, I am juuuuust writing a fanfic off of his stories! ****;)**

Fire. What is fire? Most say it is life. It is the sole source of energy in this dark, forsaken world of ours. To the brave and daring, who have found themselves lost in the barren, unforgiving wilderness, it's the difference between life, and death. To them, it is warmth. It is the medium scholars use to gather Knowledge from the depths of the dark, staving off slumber for another time. Fire, to them, is the thing that keeps them going. To the chef, it's the magic behind the meal, the magic that adds char grilled smokiness to the regular boring old food we eat just to sustain ourselves. To the everyday scientist, it is either the result of an experiment that has taken the road of success or the aftermath of an experiment that has fallen off the tracks, and crashed.

Fire. It is life. It is death. It is light. But there's one thing most people forget, and frankly, it's the one thing that matters the most. If you touch a flame, you get burned, badly. That's what Fire really is.

It. is. Pain.

Then what is ice? Is it the complete opposite? Ice certainly does not provide warmth. Ice does not provide light. It does not provide energy. The only thing ice is capable of doing is freezing everything in its wake, sucking out all energy from its surrounding, leaving it withered, battered, dead. Ice is death. It is darkness. It is isolation. Then how am I paining from this ice now? How is it possible, that the two polar opposites, fire and ice, are both burning me, causing me So. Much. Pain?

Ouch. Ouch. OUCH. Aish what is this? I'm hurting here! Somebody come help me! God this world sure is full of jerk-faces, because right now, I am in some serious agony, and not a single being on this stupid earth is coming to help me. Ack, I feel like I am in hell frozen over. Helllooooooooooooooo. Somebody. Helllooooo. YOWCH! And don't ask me where I am, mister/missus keeps-finding-my-random-papers-with-my-words-on-th em, because I don't have a clue. Ouch. Good question though. Where **AM**__I? Well there are trees around. I'm lying on the ground. And my head is going Pound. Pound. Pound. Aha even in dreams I am a poet (and I didn't even know it)….wait. I'm DREAMING! Whaaat is thiiiis I never dream. This is truly an anomaly for me. Wow. That's a big girl word huh? An-nom-mal-lee. Aha. Anyway. Trees. Ground. Ground on fire. Part one of recon, done. Everything is burning. And not with the kind of flames that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. This is the kind that hurts. Yowch. No wonder I'm squirming…. Oh no. I can feel my skin starting to drip off. AIIIISSSSSH IT HURTS SO BAAAD! Frankly it's making me nauseous. I can feel my feathers burning to ash, singeing off my beautiful agile wings. Oh god please, I'll do ANYTHING, just please don't burn my feathers… please... PLEASE! I just want my mommy. But I don't have one. I'm a test tube bird girl, remember? Great, I'm crying uncontrollably... I can't help it. My feathers are my life.

But WHERE the HELL am I ?!

Hey I see something. I see some black forms coming towards me. They're holding…oh my god…knives. Ack I need to get away! I think they're gonna chop my wings off! Noooo! But I can't get up! Oh no, I'm shackled to the ground. But I'm strong, I just need to yank these off, then I can-

"You are nothing. What were you thinking, trying to join our gang?"

"Yeah, you're some test tube mess up, nobody _wants_ you."

"Don't try to find us. We won't let you in our group no matter how hard you try. Or how hard you _FLY."_

And then, the figures, black forms, shadows of people, they walk through the torched grounds, knocking down trees into cinders. Menacing: it is the only word to describe them. Different heights, different shapes, but all with the same motives. They come closer. Closer. A few feet away from me, they decide that walking is only for the weak, so they OPEN THEIR WINGS, pump air, and land next to me, treading on my arms and legs. Searing pain wrenches my body, contorting my limbs into awkward painful positions. I can hardly breathe. Through all the fire and heat, my lungs feel like they are breathing ice. Cough. Cough. I'm helpless. My wings are on their own. I'm sorry guys. I'm sorry…I know where I am now.

The slicing starts.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" "FINAL, FINAL, FIN HONEY BREATHE BREATHE BREATHE BREATHE—"

Yup. That's me. Yelling. And that was no dream. That was a nightmare.

My worst fears all summed up in one giant terrifying enchilada.

Phew.

At least it wasn't real. I hope. I really, really, REALLY hope the real bird kids that I want to meet up with aren't like that. Please. Believe it or not, I'm scared.

"Gosh, are you going to be like this every single day? Ugh. Girls…."

Oh yeah. That's my day time nightmare talking. His name's Ivan. Ivan Force.

You've met him before. If you've lived as long as I have- not very long- you've probably met him before.

But at this moment, he is about to take the trophy for being the world's biggest pain in the—

Sorry. I promised myself I wouldn't say that word. No one deserves that.

Not even _him. _


	5. Chapter 5-Final Hope-mystery bird kid

Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: James Patterson is the sole writer of Maximum Ride (I think?) and he holds claims to the series….not me, no matter how hard I wish ;)**

**Ok, enjoy the chapter! ;D**

Ehehe...well hello there. Uh, well, sorry but uh, I was a little emotional in that last scrap of paper…for some reason. But everyone has their days, right? Ehehe, sorry, I'm feeling a bit embarrassed at the moment, because I usually DO NOT act like that... well that's done, ROCKHARD FINAL HOPE IS HERE TO STAY. Hmph. I'm as hard as titanium. Really. I am. _I am!_

Okeedokee~! Now that that's settled, let's get on with it. Today I think, is the day that we, as in that _imbecile_ Ivan and I, we need to—

"….. Please stop blabbering to your imaginary friend, Fin... it's getting annoying."

ARGH, there he goes again...ok first of all you, my dear readers, are NOT imaginary. CAN'T A GIRL TALK TO THE FEW PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY SUPPORT HER OH THAT GUY HE MAKES ME MAD!

"FIN, breathe….it's going to be oooook…you don't have to listen to that _crackpot_. He doesn't know anything about you," I say to myself every morning, trying with all my heart not to give into his sick depraved attempts to aggravate me….

You know, if he wasn't the only person/frenemy/possible alien I knew, and the world wasn't out to get me, or if he hadn't SAVED MY LIFE, well, I WOULDN'T associate myself with his kind of scum. I don't know how I thought he was _cute _when I first saw him. I mean, HOW?!

Sigh….

This is how my morning goes everyday:

Step 1: Wake up to the sight of dirty, sticky, repulsively sickening cave walls, and to the smell of rotting bat "unspeakables". One word. Ew.

Step 2: Check for all my limbs.

Step 3: Check for enemies.

Step 4: See a black figure cloaked in darkness, scream the life outa myself, and realize:

"Oh, it's just IVAN."

Step 5: Grab the flattest thing I can find and start writing to you guys!

Step 6: Get castigated by the almighty Ivan Force.

Step 7: Slump in my corner, hoping that breakfast will just come to me.

Trust me guys, this _ain't _the life.

"Ok, Ivan, what do you wish to do today?" I exclaim gleefully, always excited at the prospect of a new day, unlike he-who-does not-deserve-to-be-named.

And this is what I get.

"Nothing."

"Oh, well are you sure? I mean there's a whole world out there! We should go do something, enjoy ourselves while we can! We might bump into some info about these bird kids, too. Cmon, it'll be fun! "

"You really think it's gonna be that easy huh."

"Yes, yes I do!"

Then he has the nerve to say this: "Well, you better forget it. Obviously someone as _oblivious_ as you has no idea of the horrible things outside of this cave. Scientists, government agencies determined to capture the likes of us and inject strange chemicals into our systems, just to see how we react. Yeah I thought that would freak you out. Gosh you're so stupid sometimes. No wait, all the time."

And this is where I explode, but I'll save you the pain….ugh one more long, never-ending day to get through.

Well, after the apocalyptic nuclear explosion…..

"Ok, before you contradict me Ivan, just hear me out ok? We need to get out of this hole. I don't care if we don't enjoy ourselves or whatever; we have been sitting in this revolting hovel for FIFTEEN days straight and I'm STARVING! We need to get out of here, and get a move on. Those bird kids are practically waiting for us to come to them, I can feel it in my wings! Some get off your sorry butt and let's make a PLAN!"

Surprisingly, he replies to me: "For once, I agree with you. Let's do this."

(OK, clearly this guy is allll for one- liners. =_=)

We both decide to make a to-do list to get to this kids, and perhaps find out stuff about ourselves, like who made us, who's our mama or papa, you know the like. Oh and of course, find food.

Food

Different shelter

Find a library for a computer

Search to see there are some revolutionary groups that we can tag along with until we find bird children.

Possible ways to disguise ourselves

I mumble, "Yup, that sounds good." I shoot up of the ground, energized at the idea of getting out of this hole.

"Let's fly."

And we're off.


End file.
